Page 65 of The Scot’s Secret

Flowers filled every crevice, and servants moved from the trestle tables to the cupboards at the sides of the hall and back again, their arms laden with drinking vessels.

“What the devil—”

“There you are!”

Lady Sara rushed toward them.

“Did Peter not tell you?”

“Tell us?” Geoffrey asked.

“Oh dear. Excuse my poor manners.” She turned to Alex. “Did you find your mother?”

He shrugged. “Not yet.”

She frowned and then turned to Geoffrey. Without warning, she threw her arms around her husband, who embraced her in a display of public affection rivaling only Toren and Lady Juliette.

Alex shifted his weight and looked around the hall. Clara was nowhere to be seen. He did not want to interrupt their reunion, but he needed to know she was safe.

Sara unwrapped her arms around her husband, who seemed unwilling to let go.

“I fear your man is ill,” she said, turning toward him.

“Ill?” His heart thudded in his chest. Clara was sick? Was it serious?

Sara pushed away from Geoffrey and leaned toward him. “She is not really,” she whispered. “But please just trust me.”

Not ill? “She’s still here?”

“Of course.” Then, more loudly to them both, “I have wonderful news.”

Geoffrey pressed his lips into a fine line.

“Emma has returned with her dear friend Lady Susanna!”

Emma? Was that Geoffrey’s. . .

“Lady Susanna?” Geoffrey asked.

“Oh husband,” Sara shook her head and linked her arm to his. “You remember Lady Susanna.” She leaned in and whispered something to him.

“Of course,” he said, adding, “I look forward to seeing her again.”

Nearby servants stared, and Alex didn’t blame them. The entire conversation had baffled him. And he really only wanted to know about Clara.

“Lady Sara,” he began.

But she cut him off. “You both must wash for dinner, and quickly. As you can see, I’ve planned a bit of a welcome for Emma, and I feared you would miss it. But you said one night, so I assumed. . .”

Lady Sara kept talking, but he only half listened. He wanted to see Clara. Her rooms were just above stairs, while his chamber was in a different tower entirely. He debated on whether or not to go to her now or—

“My lord,” Sara turned back to him. “I’ll have someone come to assist you.”

He shot an envious look at the lord and lady. Clara was in their tower. But how could he go to her now without raising suspicions?

He couldn’t.

“There is no need,” he finally replied. “I thought to wash in the—”